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COMUS,  A  MASKE,  BY  JOHN  MILTON;  PRINTED 
FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  EDITION  OF  1637. 


Copyright  1902 
ByH.M.O'Kane 


^^ 


WM 


ilA 


Ci 


COMUS 


MASKE 

SBYS 

JOHN 

MILTON 


THE  PERSONS 
THE  ATTEND^ 
ANT  SPIRIT  AF- 
TERWARDS IN 
THE  HABIT  OF 

THYRSIS^^SS 
COMUS  WITH 
HIS  CREWg^ 
THE  LADYc^S? 
FIRST  BROTHER 
SECOND  BROTHER 
SABRINA  THE 
NYMPH  ^S^^ 


«. 


♦1 


A    MASKE 

Presented 

At  Ludlow  Castle, 

1634: 


On  Michaelmasse  night,  before  the 
Right  Honorable, 

lOHN  Earle  of  Bridgewatcr,  Vicount  BRACKLY, 

Lord  Praesident  of  Wales,  And  one  of 

His  Maiesties  most  honorable 

Privie  Coimsell. 


Ehen  quid  volui  misero  mihi! 
floribus  austrum  Perditus  — 


London, 

Printed  for  HVMPHREY  ROBINSON, 

At  the  signe  of  the  Three  Pidgeons  in 

Pauls  Church-yard.   1637. 


THE  EPISTLE  DEDICATORIE. 

TO  THE  RIGHT 

Honorable, 

lOHN  Lord  Vicount  BRACLY, 

Son  and  heire  apparent  to  the  Earle 

of  Bridgewater,  Sec. 

MY  LORD, 

This  Poem,  which  received  its  first  occasion  of  birth 
from  your  selfe,  and  others  of  your  noble  familie, 
and  much  honour  from  your  own  Person  in  the  per- 
formance, now  returns  againe  to  make  a  finall  dedi- 
cation of  it  selfe  to  you.  Although  not  openly  ac- 
knowledg'd  by  the  Author,  yet  it  is  a  legitimate  off- 
spring, so  lovely,  and  so  much  desired,  that  the  often 
copying  of  it  hath  tir'd  my  pen  to  give  my  severall 
friends  satisfaction,  and  brought  me  to  a  necessitie 
of  producing  it  to  the  publick  view;  and  now  to  offer 
it  up  in  all  rightfuU  devotion  to  those  faire  hopes,  and 
rare  Endowments  of  your  much-promising  Youth, 
which  give  a  full  assurance,  to  all  that  know  you, 
of  a  future  excellence.  Live  sweet  Lord  to  be  the 
honour  of  your  Name,  and  receive  this  as  your  o wne, 
from  the  hands  of  him,  who  hath  by  many  feivours 
beene  long  obhg'd  to  your  most  honour 'd  Parents, 
and  as  in  this  reprsesentation  your  attendant  Thyrsis, 
so  now  in  all  reall  expression 

Your  faithfull,  and  most 

humble  Servant, 

H.  LAWES. 


A  MASKE  PERFORMED  BEFORE  THE  PRiES-  COM  US 

IDENT  OF  WALES  AT  LUDLOW.  1634.    THE  A  AUske 

FIRSTSCENEDISCOVERSA  WILD  WOOD.  THE 
ATTENDANT  SPIRIT  DESCENDS  OR  ENTERS. 
BEFORE  the  starric  threshold  of  Jovcs  Court 
My  mansion  is,  where  those  immortall  shapes 
Of  bright  aereall  Spirits  live  insphear'd 
In  Regions  mild  of  calme  and  serene  aire, 
Above  the  smoake  and  stirre  of  this  dim  spot 
Which  men  call  Earth,  and  with  low-thoughted  care 
Confin'd,  and  pester'd  in  this  pin-fold  here, 
Strive  to  keepe  up  a  fraile,  and  feaverish  being 
Unmindfull  of  the  crowne  that  Vertue  gives 
After  this  mortall  change  to  her  true  Servants 
Amongst  the  enthron'd  gods  on  Sainted  seats. 
Yet  some  there  be  that  by  due  steps  aspire 
To  lay  their  just  hands  on  that  golden  key 
That  opes  the  palace  of  iEternity: 
To  such  my  errand  is,  and  but  for  such 
I  would  not  soile  these  pure  ambrosial  weeds 
With  the  ranck  vapours  of  this  Sin-worne  mould. 
(§^  But  to  my  task.    Neptune  besides  the  sway 
Of  every  salt  Flood,  and  each  ebbing  Streame 
Tooke  in  my  lot  'twixt  high,  and  neather  Jove 
Imperial  rule  of  all  the  Sea-girt  lies 
That  like  to  rich,  and  various  gemms  inlay 
The  unadorned  bosome  of  the  Deepe, 
Which  he  to  grace  his  tributarie  gods 
By  course  commits  to  severall  government 
And  gives  them  leave  to  weare  their  Saphire  crowns, 
And  weild  their  little  tridents,  but  this  lie 
The  greatest,  and  the  best  of  all  the  maine 
He  quarters  to  his  blu-hair'd  deities. 
And  all  this  tract  that  fronts  the  falling  Sun 
A  noble  Peere  of  mickle  trust,  and  power 
Has  in  his  charge,  with  temper'd  awe  to  guide 
An  old,  and  haughtie  Nation  proud  in  Armes: 
Where  his  faire  off-spring  nurs't  in  Princely  lore 

1 


COMUS       Arc  comming  to  attend  their  Fathers  state, 
A  Maske       And  new-entrusted  Scepter,  but  their  way 

Lies  through  the  perplex't  paths  of  this  dreare  wood, 
The  nodding  horror  of  whose  shadie  brows 
Threats  the  forlorne  and  wandring  Passinger. 
And  here  their  tender  age  might  suffer  perill 
But  that  by  quick  command  from  Sovcraigne  Jove 
I  was  dispatcht  for  their  defence,  and  guard, 
And  listen  why,  for  I  will  tell  yee  now 
What  never  yet  was  heard  in  Tale  or  Song 
From  old,  or  moderne  Bard  in  hall  or  bowrc. 
iSS  Bacchus  that  first  from  out  the  purple  Grape 
Cmsh't  the  sweet  poyson  of  mis-used  Wine 
After  the  Tuscan  Mariners  transform'd 
Coasting,  the  Tyrrhene  shore,  as  the  winds  listed, 
On  Circes  Hand  fell  (who  knowes  not  Circe 
The  daughter  of  the  Sun?  whose  charmed  Cup 
Whoever  tasted  lost  his  upright  shape. 
And  downward  fell  into  a  grovling  S%nne) 
This  Nymph  that  gaz'd  upon  his  clustring  locks 
With  Ivie  berries  wreath'd,  and  his  blith  youth 
Had  by  him,  ere  he  parted  thence,  a  Son 
Much  like  his  Father,  but  his  Mother  more, 
Whom  therefore  she  brought  up  and  Comus  nam'd. 
Who  ripe,  and  frolick  of  his  full  growne  age 
Roaving  the  Ccltick,  and  Iberian  fields 
At  last  betakes  him  to  this  ominous  wood. 
And  in  thick  shelter  of  black  shades  imbowr'd 
Excells  his  Mother  at  her  mightie  Art 
Offring  to  every  wearie  Travailer 
His  orient  liquor  in  a  Chrystall  glasse 
To  quench  the  drouth  of  Phoebus,  which  as  they  tast 
(For  most  doe  taste  through  fond  intemperate  thirst) 
Soone  as  the  Potion  works,  their  humane  count  nance 
Th'  expresse  resemblance  of  the  gods  is  chang'd 
Into  some  brutish  forme  of  Wolfe,  or  Beare 
Or  Ounce,  or  Tiger,  Hog,  or  bearded  Goat, 
All  other  parts  remaining  as  they  were, 
2 


And  they,  so  perfect  in  their  miserie,  COMUS 

Not  once  perceive  their  foule  disfigurement,  A  Maske 

But  boast  themselves  more  comely  then  before 

And  all  their  friends;  and  native  home  forget 

To  roule  with  pleasure  in  a  sensuaU  stie. 

Therefore  when  any  favour'd  of  high  Jove 

Chances  to  passe  through  this  adventrous  glade, 

Swift  as  the  Sparkle  of  a  glancing  Starre 

I  shoote  from  heav  n,  to  give  him  safe  convoy, 

As  now  I  doe:  but  first  I  must  put  off 

These  my  skie  robes  spun  out  of  Iris  wooffe, 

And  take  the  weeds  and  likenesse  of  a  Swaine, 

That  to  the  service  of  this  house  belongs, 

Who  with  his  soft  Pipe,  and  smooth-dittied  Song, 

Well  knows  to  still  the  wild  winds  when  they  roare. 

And  hush  the  waving  woods,  nor  of  lesse  faith, 

And  in  this  office  of  his  Mountaine  watch, 

Likeliest,  and  neerest  to  the  present  aide 

Of  this  occasion.    But  I  heare  the  tread 

Of  hatefuU  steps,  I  must  be  viewlesse  now. 

Comus  enters  with  a  Charming  rod  in  one  hand,  his 
Glasse  in  the  other,  with  him  a  rout  of  Monsters 
headed  like  sundry  sorts  of  wilde  Beasts,  but  other- 
wise like  Men  and  Women,  their  apparell  glistring, 
they  come  iu  [inj  making  a  riotous  and  unruly  noise, 
with  Torches  in  their  hands. 

COMUS.   The  starre  that  bids  the  Shepheard  fold, 

Now  the  top  of  heav'n  doth  hold. 

And  the  gilded  Carre  of  Day 

His  glowing  Axle  doth  allay, 

In  the  steepe  Atlantik  streame. 

And  the  slope  Sun  his  upward  beame 

Shoots  against  the  duskie  Pole, 

Pacing  toward  the  other  gole 

Of  his  Chamber  in  the  East. 

Meane  while  welcome  Joy,  and  Feast, 

Midnight  shout,  and  revelrie, 

3 


COMUS       Tipsic  dance,  and  Jollitic. 

A  Maske       Braid  your  Locks  with  rosic  Twine, 
Dropping  odours,  dropping  Wine. 
Rigor  now  is  gone  to  bed, 
And  Advice  with  scrupulous  head, 
Strict  Age,  and  sowrc  Scvcritie 
With  their  grave  Sawes  in  slumber  lie. 
We  that  are  of  purer  fire, 
Immitate  the  starrie  quire. 
Who  in  their  nightly  watchfuU  Spheares, 
Lead  in  swift  round  the  Months  and  Yeares. 
The  Sounds,  and  Seas  with  all  their  finnie  drove. 
Now  to  the  Moone  in  wavering  Morrice  move, 
And  on  the  tawny  sands  and  shelves, 
Trip  the  pert  Fairies  and  the  dapper  Elves; 
By  dimpled  Brooke,  and  Fountaine  brim. 
The  Wood-nymphs  deckt  with  daisies  trim, 
Their  merry  wakes,  and  pastimes  keepe, 
What  hath  night  to  doe  with  sleepe? 
Night  hath  better  sweets  to  prove, 
Venus  now  wakes,  and  wakens  Love. 
Come  let  us  our  rights  begin 
Tis  onely  day-light  that  makes  Sin 
Which  these  dun  shades  will  ne're  report. 
Haile  Goddesse  of  Noctumall  sport 
Dark-vaild  Cotytto,  t'  whom  the  secret  flame 
Of  mid-night  Torches  burnes;  mysterious  Dame 
That  ne're  at  [art]  calld,  but  when  the  Dragon  woome 
Of  Stygian  darknesse  spets  her  thickest  gloome 
And  makes  one  blot  of  all  the  aire. 
Stay  thy  clowdic  Ebon  chaire, 
Wherein  thou  rid'st  with  Hecat',  and  befriend 
Us  thy  vow'd  Priests,  till  utmost  end 
Of  all  thy  dues  be  done,  and  none  left  out 
Ere  the  blabbing  Easteme  scout 
The  nice  Morne  on  th'  Indian  steepe 
From  her  cabin'd  loop  hole  peepe, 
And  to  the  tel-tale  Sun  discry 
4 


Wur  conccal'd  Solemnity.  COMUS 

Come,  knit  hands,  and  beate  the  ground  A  Maske 

In  a  light  fantastick  round. 

THE  MEASURE. 

Breake  off,  breake  off,  I  feele  the  different  pace 

Of  some  chast  footing  neere  about  this  ground, 

Run  to  your  shrouds,  within  these  Brakes,  and  Trees 

Our  number  may  affright:    Some  Virgin  sure 

(For  so  I  can  distinguish  by  mine  Art) 

Benighted  in  these  woods.    Now  to  my  charmes 

And  to  my  wilie  trains,  I  shall  ere  long 

Be  well  stock't  with  as  faire  a  Heard  as  graz'd 

About  my  Mother  Circe.    Thus  I  hurle 

My  dazling  Spells  into  the  spungie  aire 

Of  power  to  cheate  the  eye  with  bleare  illusion, 

And  give  it  false  presentments,  lest  the  place 

And  my  queint  habits  breed  astonishment, 

And  put  the  Damsel  to  suspicious  flight. 

Which  must  not  be,  for  that's  against  my  course; 

I  under  faire  praetents  of  friendly  ends, 

And  wel  plac't  words  of  glozing  courtesie 

Baited  with  reasons  not  unplausible 

Wind  me  into  the  easie  hearted  man, 

And  hug  him  into  snares;  when  once  her  eye 

Hath  met  the  vertue  of  this  Magick  dust, 

I  shall  appeare  some  harmlesse  Villager 

Whom  thrift  keepes  up  about  his  Country  geare 

But  here  she  comes,  I  fairly  step  aside 

And  hearken,  if  I  may,  her  businesse  here. 

THE  LADIE  ENTERS. 

This  way  the  noise  was,  if  mine  eare  be  true 
My  best  guide  now,  me  thought  it  was  the  sound 
Of  Riot,  and  ill  manag'd  Merriment, 
Such  as  the  jocond  Flute,  or  gamesome  Pipe 
Stirs  up  among  the  loose  unleter'd  Hinds 
When  for  their  teeming  Flocks,  and  granges  full 

5 


COMUS       In  wanton  dance  they  praise  the  bounteous  Pan, 
A  Maske       And  thanke  the  gods  amisse.    I  should  be  loath 
To  meet  the  nidenesse,  and  swill'd  insolence 
Of  such  late  Wassailers;  yet  6  [oh]  where  else 
Shall  I  informe  my  unacquainted  feet 
In  the  blind  mazes  of  this  tangled  wood? 
My  Brothers  when  they  saw  me  wearied  out 
With  this  long  way,  resolving  here  to  lodge 
Under  the  spreading  favour  of  these  Pines 
Stept  as  they  se'd  to  the  next  Thicket  side 
To  bring  me  Berries,  or  such  cooling  fruit 
As  the  kind  hospitable  woods  provide. 
They  left  me  then,  when  the  gray-hooded  Ev'n 
Like  a  sad  Votarist  in  Palmer  weeds 
Rose  from  the  hindmost  wheels  of  Phoebus  waine. 
But  where  they  are,  and  why  they  came  not  back 
Is  now  the  labour  of  my  thoughts,  'tis  likeliest 
They  had  ingag'd  their  wandring  steps  too  far. 
And  envious  darknesse,  ere  they  could  retume, 
Had  stolne  them  from  me,  else  6  [oh]  theevish  Night 
Why  shouldst  thou,  but  for  some  fellonious  end 
In  thy  darke  lanteme  thus  close  up  the  Stars, 
That  nature  hung  in  Heav  n,  and  fill'd  their  lamps 
With  everlasting  oile  to  give  due  light 
To  the  misled,  and  lonely  Travailer. 
This  is  the  place,  as  well  as  I  may  goesse 
Whence  even  now  the  tumult  of  loud  Mirth 
Was  rife,  and  perfect  in  my  listening  eare. 
Yet  nought  but  single  darknesse  doe  I  find, 
What  might  this  be?  a  thousand  fantasies 
Begin  to  throng  into  my  memorie 
Of  calling  shapes,  and  beckning  shadows  dire. 
And  ayrie  tongues,  that  syllable  mens  names 
On  Sands,  and  Shoars,  and  desert  Wildernesses. 
These  thoughts  may  startle  well,  but  not  astound 
The  vertuous  mind,  that  ever  walks  attended 
By  a  strong  siding  champion  Conscience. — 
O  welcome  pure-ey'd  Faith,  white-handed  Hope 
6 


Thou  flittering  Angel  girt  with  golden  wings,  COMUS 

And  thou  unblemish't  forme  of  Chastitie  A  Maske 

I  see  yee  visibly,  and  now  beleeve 

That  he,  the  Supreme  good,  t'  whom  all  things  ill 

Are  but  as  slavish  officers  of  vengeance 

Would  send  a  glistring  Guardian  if  need  were 

To  keepe  my  life,  and  honour  unassail'd. 

Was  I  deceiv'd,  or  did  a  sable  cloud 

Turne  forth  her  silver  lining  on  the  night? 

I  did  not  erre,  there  does  a  sables  cloud 

Turne  forth  her  silver  lining  on  the  night 

And  casts  a  gleame  over  this  tufted  Grove. 

I  cannot  hallow  to  my  Brothers,  but 

Such  noise  as  I  can  make  to  be  heard  fardest 

He  venter,  for  my  new  enliv'nd  spirits 

Prompt  me;  and  they  perhaps  are  not  farre  off. 

SONG. 

Sweet  echo,  sweetest  Nymph  that  liv'st  unseene 
Within  thy  ayrie  shell 

By  slow  Meander's  margent  greene, 
And  in  the  violet-imbroider'd  vale 

Where  the  love-lorne  Nightingale 
Nightly  to  thee  her  sad  Song  moumeth  well. 

Canst  thou  not  tell  me  of  a  gentle  Paire 
That  likest  thy  Narcissus  are? 

O  if  thou  have 
Hid  them  in  some  flowrie  Cave, 
Tell  me  but  where 
Sweet  Queene  of  Parlie,  Daughter  of  the  Sphare, 
So  maist  thou  be  translated  to  the  skies, 
And  give  resounding  grace  to  all  Heav'ns  Harmonies. 

COMUS.  Can  any  mortall  mixture  of  Earths  mould 
Breath  such  Divine  inchanting  ravishment? 
Sure  something  holy  lodges  in  that  brest, 
And  with  these  raptures  moves  the  vocal  aire 
To  testifie  his  hidden  residence; 

7 


COMUS       How  sweetly  did  they  float  upon  the  wings 
A  Maske       Of  Silence,  through  the  emptie-vaulted  night 
At  every  fall  smoothing  the  Raven  downe 
Of  darknesse  till  she  smil'd:  I  have  oft  heard 
My  mother  Circe  with  the  Sirens  three 
Amidst  the  flowrie-kirtl'd  Naiades 
Culling  their  Potent  hearbs,  and  balefull  drugs 
Who  as  they  sung,  would  take  the  prison'd  soule 
And  lap  it  in  Elysium,  Scylla  wept, 
And  chid  her  barking  waves  into  attention, 
And  fell  Charybdis  murmur'd  soft  applause: 
Yet  they  in  pleasing  slumber  luU'd  the  sense 
And  in  sweet  madnesse  rob^d  it  of  it  selfe, 
But  such  a  sacred,  and  home-felt  delight, 
Such  sober  certainty  of  waking  blisse 
I  never  heard  till  now.    He  speak  to  her 
And  she  shall  be  my  Queene.    Haile  forreine  wonder 
Whom  certaine  these  rough  shades  did  never  breed 
Unlesse  the  Goddesse  that  in  rurall  shrine 
Dwell'st  here  with  Pan,  or  Silvan,  by  blest  Song 
Forbidding  every  bleake  unkindly  Fog 
To  touch  the  prosperous  growth  of  this  tall  wood. 
LADIE.    Nay  gentle  Shepherd  ill  is  lost  that  praise 
That  is  addrest  to  unattending  Eares, 
Not  any  boast  of  skill,  but  extreame  shift 
How  to  regaine  my  fever'd  companie 
Compell'd  me  to  awake  the  courteous  Echo 
To  give  me  answer  from  her  mossie  Couch. 
COMUS.  What  chance  good  Ladie  hath  bereft  you  thus? 
LADIE.  Dim  darknesse,  and  this  leavie  Labyrinth. 
COMUS.  Could  that  divide  you  from  neere-usheringguidcs? 
LADIE.  They  left  me  weary  on  a  grassie  terfe. 
COMUS.   By  falsehood,  or  discourtesie,  or  why? 
LADIE.  To  seeke  i'th  vally  some  coole  friendly  Spring. 
COMUS.  And  left  your  faire  side  all  unguarded  Ladie? 
LADIE.  They  were  but  twaine,  &  purpos'd  quick  return. 
COMUS.   Perhaps  fore-stalling  night  praevented  them. 
LADIE.    How  easie  my  misfortune  is  to  hit! 
8 


COMUS.  Imports  their  lossc,  beside  the  praesent  need?  COMUS 

LADIE.  No  lesse  then  if  I  should  my  brothers  lose.  A.  Maske 

COMUS.  Were  they  of  manly  prime,  or  youthful  bloom? 

LADIE.  As  smooth  as  Hebe's  their  unrazor'd  lips. 

COMUS.  Two  such  I  saw,  what  time  the  labour  d  Oxe 

In  his  loose  traces  from  the  furrow  came. 

And  the  swink't  hedger  at  his  Supper  sate; 

I  saw  them  under  a  greene  mantling  vine 

That  crawls  along  the  side  of  yon  small  hill, 

Plucking  ripe  clusters  from  the  tender  shoots, 

Their  port  was  more  then  humaine;  as  they  stood, 

I  tooke  it  for  a  faerie  vision 

Of  some  gay  creatures  of  the  element 

That  in  the  colours  of  the  Rainbow  live 

And  play  i'th  plighted  clouds,  I  was  aw-strooke, 

And  as  I  past,  I  worshipt;  if  those  you  seeke 

It  were  a  journey  like  the  path  to  heav  n 

To  helpe  you  find  them. 

LADIE.  Gentle  villager 

What  readiest  way  would  bring  me  to  that  place? 

COMUS.  Due  west  it  rises  from  this  shrubbie  point 

LADIE.  To  find  out  that  good  shepheard  I  suppose 

In  such  a  scant  allowance  of  starre  light 

Would  overtask  the  best  land-pilots  art 

Without  the  sure  guesse  of  well-practiz'd  feet. 

COMUS.    I  know  each  lane,  and  every  alley  greene 

Dingle,  or  bushie  dell  of  this  wild  wood. 

And  every  boskie  bourne  from  side  to  side 

My  daylie  walks  and  ancient  neighbourhood, 

And  if  your  stray  attendance  be  yet  lodg'd 

Or  shroud  within  these  limits,  I  shall  know 

Ere  morrow  wake,  or  the  low-roosted  larke 

From  her  thach't  palate  rowse,  if  otherwise 

I  can  conduct  you  Ladie  to  a  low 

But  loyall  cottage,  where  you  may  be  safe 

Till  further  quest.' 

LADIE.    Shepheard  I  take  thy  word, 

And  trust  thy  honest  offer'd  courtesie, 

9 


COMUS       Which  oft  is  sooner  found  in  lowly  sheds 
A  Maske       With  smoakie  rafters,  then  in  tapstrie  halls, 

And  courts  of  Princes,  where  it  first  was  nam'd, 

And  yet  is  most  prsetended:  in  a  place 

Lesse  warranted  then  this,  or  lesse  secure 

I  cannot  be,  that  I  should  feare  to  change  it, 

Eye  me  blest  Providence,  and  square  my  triall 

To  my  proportion'd  strength.    Shepheard  lead  on. — 

THE  TWO  BROTHERS. 

ELD.  BRO.    Unmuffle  yee  faint  stars,  and  thou  fair  moon 
That  wontst  to  love  the  travailers  b^iizon 
Stoope  thy  pale  visage  through  an  amber  cloud 
And  disinherit  Chaos,  that  raigns  here 
In  double  night  of  darknesse,  and  of  shades; 
Or  if  your  influence  be  quite  damm  d  up 
With  black  usurping  mists,  some  gentle  taper 
Though  a  rush  candle  from  a  wicker  hole 
Of  some  clay  habitation  visit  us 
With  thy  long  levelled  rule  of  streaming  light 
And  thou  shalt  be  our  starre  of  Arcadie 
Or  Tyrian  Cynosure. 
SEC.  BRO.    Or  if  our  eyes 
Be  barr'd  that  happinesse,  might  we  but  heare 
The  folded  flocks  pen'd  in  their  watled  cotes. 
Or  sound  of  pastoral  reed  with  oaten  stops, 
Or  whistle  from  the  Lodge,  or  village  cods 
Count  the  night  watches  to  his  featherie  Dames, 
T'  would  be  some  solace  yet,  some  little  chearing 
In  this  close  dungeon  of  innumerous  bowes. 
But  6  [oh]  that  haple&se  virgin  our  lost  sister 
Where  may  she  wander  now,  whether  betake  her 
From  the  chill  dew,  amongst  rude  burs  and  thistles? 
Perhaps  some  cold  banke  is  her  boulster  now 
Or  'gainst  the  rugged  barke  of  some  broad  Elme 
Leans  her  unpillow'd  head  fraught  with  sad  fears. 
What  if  in  wild  amazement,  and  affright 
Or  while  we  speake  within  the  direfuU  graspe 
10 


Of  Savage  hunger,  or  of  Savage  heat?  COMUS 

ELD.  BRO     Peace  brother,  be  not  over  exquisite  A  Maske 

To  cast  the  fashion  of  uncertaine  evils, 
For  grant  they  be  so,  while  they  rest  onknowne 
What  need  a  man  forestall  his  date  of  gricfe 
And  run  to  meet  what  he  would  most  avoid? 
Or  if  they  be  but  false  alarms  of  Fearc 
How  bitter  is  such  selfe-delusion? 
I  doe  not  thinke  my  sister  so  to  seeke 
Or  so  unprincipl'd  in  vertues  book 
And  the  sweet  peace  that  goodnesse  bosoms  ever 
As  that  the  single  want  of  light,  and  noise 
(Not  being  in  danger,  as  I  trust  she  is  not) 
Could  stir  the  constant  mood  of  her  calme  thoughts 
And  put  them  into  mis-becomming  plight. 
Vertue  could  see  to  doe  what  vertue  would 
By  her  owne  radiant  light,  though  Sun  and  Moon 
Were  in  the  flat  Sea  sunck,  and  Wisdoms  selfe 
Oft  seeks  to  sweet  retired  Solitude 
Where  with  her  best  nurse  Contemplation 
She  plumes  her  feathers,  and  lets  grow  her  wings 
That  in  the  various  bustle  of  resort 
Were  all  to  ruffl'd,  and  sometimes  impair'd. 
He  that  has  light  within  his  owne  cleere  brest 
May  sit  i'  th  center,  and  enjoy  bright  day, 
But  he  that  hides  a  darke  soule,  and  foule  thoughts 
Benighted  walks  under  the  mid-day  Sun, 
Himselfe  is  his  owne  dungeon. 
SEC.  BRO.    'Tis  most  true 
That  musing  meditation  most  affects 
The  Pensive  secrecie  of  desert  cell 
Farre  from  the  cheerefull  haunt  of  men,  and  heards, 
And  sits  as  safe  as  in  a  Senat  house 
For  who  would  rob  an  Hermit  of  his  weeds 
His  few  books,  or  his  beades,  or  maple  dish. 
Or  doe  his  gray  hairs  any  violence? 
But  beautie  like  the  faire  Hesperian  tree 
Laden  with  blooming  gold,  had  need  the  guard 

11 


COMUS       Of  dragon  watch  with  tininchanted  eye 
A  Maske       To  save  her  blossoms,  and  defend  her  fruit 
From  the  rash  hand  of  bold  Incontinence. 
You  may  as  well  spread  out  the  unsun'd  heaps 
Of  misers  treasure  by  an  outlaws  den 
And  tell  me  it  is  safe,  as  bid  me  hope 
Danger  will  winke  on  opportunitie 
And  let  a  single  helplesse  mayden  passe 
Uninjur'd  in  this  wild  surrounding  wast 
Of  night,  or  lonelynesse  it  recks  me  not 
I  feare  the  dred  events  that  dog  them  both, 
Lest  some  ill  greeting  touch  attempt  the  person 
Of  our  unowned  sister. 
ELD.  BRO.    I  doe  not  brother 
Inferre,  as  if  I  thought  my  sisters  state 
Secure  without  all  doubt,  or  controversie: 
Yet  where  an  equall  poise  of  hope,  and  feare 
Does  arbitrate  th'  event,  my  nature  is 
That  I  encline  to  hope,  rather  then  feare 
And  gladly  banish  squint  suspicion. 
My  sister  is  not  so  defencelesse  lest 
As  you  imagine,  she  has  a  hidden  strength 
Which  you  remember  not. 
SEC.  BRO.    What  hidden  strength 
Unlesse  the  strength  of  heav'n,  if  meane  that? 
ELD.  BRO.    I  meane  that  too,  but  yet  a  hidden  strength 
Which  if  heav'n  gave  it,  may  be  term'd  her  owne: 
'Tis  chastitie,  my  brother,  chastitie: 
She  that  has  that,  is  clad  in  compleat  Steele, 
And  like  a  quiver'd  nymph  with  arrowes  keene 
May  trace  huge  forrests,  and  unharbour'd  heaths 
Infamous  hills,  and  sandy  perillous  wilds 
Where  through  the  sacred  rays  of  chastitie 
No  savage  fierce,  bandite,  or  mountaneere 
Will  dare  to  soyle  her  virgin  puritie 
Yea  there,  where  very  desolation  dwells 
By  grots,  and  caverns  shag'd  with  horrid  shades 
She  may  passe  on  with  nnblench't  majestie 
12 


Be  it  not  done  in  pride,  or  in  presumption.  COMUS 

Some  say  no  evill  thing  that  walks  by  night  A  Maske 

In  fog,  or  fire,  by  lake,  or  moorish  fen 
Blew  meager  hag,  or  stubbome  unlayd  ghost 
That  breaks  his  magicke  chaines  at  curfeu  time 
No  goblin,  or  swart  Faerie  of  the  mine 
Has  hurtfull  power  ore  true  virginity. 
Doe  yee  beleeve  me  yet,  or  shall  I  call 
Antiquity  from  the  old  schools  of  Greece 
To  testifie  the  armes  of  Chastitie? 
Hence  had  the  huntresse  Dian  her  dred  bow 
Faire  silver-shafted  Queene  for  ever  chast 
Wherewith  we  tam'd  the  brinded  lionesse 
And  spotted  mountaine  pard,  but  set  at  nought 
The  frivolous  bolt  of  Cupid,  gods  and  men 
Fear'd  her  sterne  frowne,  &  she  was  queen  oth*  woods. 
What  was  that  snakie  headed  Gorgon  sheild 
That  wife  Minerva  wore,  unconquer'd  virgin 
Wherewith  she  freez'd  her  foes  to  congeal'd  stone? 
But  rigid  looks  of  Chast  austeritie 
And  noble  grace  that  dash't  brute  violence 
With  sudden  adoration,  and  blancke  aw. 
So  deare  to  heav'n  is  saintly  chastitie 
That  when  a  soule  is  found  sincerely  so, 
A  thousand  liveried  angels  lackie  her 
Driving  farre  off  each  thing  of  sinne,  and  guilt, 
And  in  cleere  dreeme,  and  solemne  vision 
Tell  her  of  things  that  no  grosse  eare  can  heare, 
Till  oft  converse  with  heav'nly  habitants 
Begin  to  cast  a  beame  on  th'  outward  shape 
The  unpolluted  temple  of  the  mind 
And  turnes  it  by  degrees  to  the  souls  essence 
Till  all  bee  made  immortall;  but  when  lust 
By  unchast  looks,  loose  gestures,  and  foule  talke 
But  most  by  lend,  and  lavish  act  of  sin 
Lets  in  defilement  to  the  inward  parts, 
The  soule  growes  clotted  by  contagion, 
Imbodies,  and  imbrutes,  till  she  quite  loose 

13 


COMUS      The  divine  propertie  of  her  first  being. 

A  Maske       Such  are  those  thick,  and  gloomie  shadows  damp 

Oft  seene  in  ChameU  vaults,  and  Sepulchers 

Hovering,  and  sitting  by  a  new  made  grave 

As  loath  to  leave  the  body  that  it  lov'd, 

And  link't  it  selfe  by  camall  sensualitie 

To  a  degenerate  and  degraded  state. 

SEC.  BRO.    How  charming  is  divine  Philosophie! 

Not  harsh,  and  crabbed  as  dull  fools  suppose, 

But  musicall  as  is  Apollo's  lute, 

And  a  perpetuall  feast  of  nectar'd  sweets 

Where  no  crude  surfet  raigns. 

ELD.  BKO.    List,  list  I  heare 

Some  farre  off  hallow  breake  the  silent  aire. 

SEC.  BRO.    Me  thought  so  too,  what  should  it  be? 

ELD.  BRO.    For  certaine 

Either  some  one  like  ns  night  founder'd  here, 

Or  else  some  neighbour  wood  man,  or  at  worst 

Some  roaving  robber  calling  to  his  fellows. 

SEC.  BRO.  Heay'n  keepe  my  sister,  agen  agen  and  neere, 

Best  draw,  and  stand  upon  our  guard. 

ELD.  BRO.   He  hallow, 

If  he  be  friendly  he  comes  well,  if  not 

Defence  is  a  good  canse,  and  Heay'n  be  for  as. 

THE  ATTENDANT  SPIRIT  HABITED  LIKE  A 
SHEPHEARD. 

That  hallow  I  should  know,  what  are  you,  speake. 
Come  not  too  neere,  you  fall  on  iron  stakes  else. 
SPIRIT.   What  voice  is  that,  my  yong  Lord?  speak  agen. 
SEC.  BRO.    O  brother  'tis  my  father  Shepheard  sure. 
ELD.  BRO.  Thyrsis?  whose  artf  ull  strains  have  oft  delayd 
The  huddling  brook  to  heare  his  madhgale, 
And  sweeten'd  every  muskrose  of  the  dale, 
How  cam'st  thou  here  good  Swaine,  hath  any  ram 
Slip't  from  the  fold,  or  yong  kid  lost  his  dam. 
Or  straggling  weather  the  pen't  flock  forsook, 
How  couldst  thou  find  this  darke  sequester'd  nook? 
14 


SPIRIT.  O  my  lov'd  masters  heire,  and  his  next  joy  COMUS 

I  came  not  here  on  such  a  triviall  toy  A  Maske 

As  a  strayd  Ewe,  or  to  pursue  the  stealth     . 

Of  pilfering  wolfe,  not  all  the  fleecie  wealth 

That  doth  enrich  these  downs  is  worth  a  thought 

To  this  my  errand,  and  the  care  it  brought 

But  6  [oh]  my  virgin  Ladie  where  is  she, 

How  chance  she  is  not  in  your  companie? 

ELD.  BRO.  To  tell  thee  sadly  shepheard,  without  blame 

Or  our  neglect,  wee  lost  her  as  wee  came. 

SPIRIT.   Aye  me  unhappie  then  my  fears  are  true. 

ELD.  BRO.  Whatf  ears  good  Thyrsis?  prethee  briefly  shew. 

SPIRIT.  He  tell  you,  'tis  not  vaine,  or  fabulous 

(Though  so  esteem'd  by  shallow  ignorance) 

What  the  sage  Poets  taught  by  th'  heav'nly  Muse 

Storied  of  old  in  high  immortall  verse 

Of  dire  Chimera's  and  inchanted  lies 

And  rifted  rocks  whose  entrance  leads  to  hell, 

For  such  there  be,  but  unbeliefe  is  blind. 

j§^  Within  the  navill  of  this  hideous  wood 

Immur'd  in  cypresse  shades  a  Sorcerer  dwells 

Of  Bacchus,  and  of  Circe  borne,  great  Comus, 

Deepe  skill'd  in  all  his  mother's  witcheries, 

And  here  to  every  thirstie  wanderer 

By  slie  enticement  gives  his  banefull  cup 

With  many  murmurs  mixt,  whose  pleasing  poison 

The  visage  quite  transforms  of  him  that  drinks, 

And  the  inglorious  likenesse  of  a  beast 

Fixes  instead,  unmoulding  reasons  mintage 

Character'd  in  the  face;  this  have  I  leam't 

Tending  my  flocks  hard  by  i'  th  hilly  crofts 

That  brow  this  bottome  glade,  whence  night  by  night 

He  and  his  monstrous  rout  are  heard  to  howle 

Like  stabl'd  wolves,  or  tigers  at  their  prey 

Doing  abhorred  rites  to  Hecate 

In  their  obscured  haunts  of  inmost  bowres. 

Yet  have  they  many  baits,  and  guilefull  spells 

T'  inveigle,  and  invite  th'  unwarie  sense 

15 


COMUS       Of  them  that  passe  unweeting  by  the  way. 

A  Maske       This  evening  late  by  then  the  chewing  flocks 
Had  ta'ne  their  supper  on  the  favourite  herbe 
Of  Knot-grass  dew- besprent,  and  were  in  fold 
I  sate  me  downe  to  watch  upon  a  bank 
With  ivie  canopied,  and  interwove 
With  flaunting  hony-suckle,  and  began 
Wrapt  in  a  pleasing  fit  of  melancholy 
To  meditate  my  rural  minstrelsie 
Till  fancie  had  her  fill,  but  ere  a  close 
The  wonted  roare  was  up  amidst  the  woods, 
And  filld  the  aire  with  barbarous  dissonance 
At  which  I  ceas't,  and  listen'd  them  a  while 
Till  an  unusual  stop  of  sudden  silence 
Gave  respit  to  the  drowsie  frighted  steeds 
That  draw  the  litter  of  close-curtain'd  sleepe. 
At  last  a  soft,  and  solemne  breathing  sound 
Rose  like  a  steame  of  rich  distill'd  Perfumes 
And  stole  upon  the  aire,  that  even  Silence 
Was  tooke  ere  she  was  ware,  and  wish't  she  might 
Deny  her  nature,  and  be  never  more 
Still  to  be  so  displac't.    I  was  all  eare, 
And  took  in  strains  that  might  create  a  scale 
Under  the  ribs  of  Death,  but  6  [oh]  ere  long 
Too  well  I  did  perceive  it  was  the  voice 
Of  my  most  honour'd  Lady  your  dear  sister. 
Amaz'd  I  stood,  harrow'd  with  griefe  and  feare, 
And  6  [oh]  poore  haplesse  nightingale  thought  I 
How  sweet  thou  sing'st,  how  neere  the  deadly  snare! 
Then  downe  the  lawns  I  ran  with  headlong  hast 
Through  paths,  and  turnings  often  trod  by  day 
Till  guided  by  my  eare  I  found  the  place 
Where  that  dam'd  wisard  hid  in  slie  disguise 
(For  so  by  certain  signs  I  knew)  had  met 
Alreadie,  ere  my  best  speed  could  prxvent 
The  aidlesse  innocent  Ladie  his  wish't  prey, 
Who  gently  ask't  if  he  had  seene  such  two 
Supposing  him  some  neighbour  villager; 
16 


Longer  I  durst  not  stay,  but  scene  I  guess't  COMUS 

Yee  were  the  two  she  mean't,  with  that  I  sprung  A  Maske 

Into  swift  flight  till  I  had  found  you  here, 
But  farther  know  I  not. 
SEC.  BRO.    O  night  and  shades 
How  are  yee  joyn'd  with  hell  in  triple  knot 
Against  th'  unarmed  weaknesse  of  one  virgin 
Alone,  and  helplesse!  is  this  the  confidence 
You  gave  me  brother? 
ELD.  BRO.    Yes,  and  keep  it  still, 
Leane  on  it  safely,  not  a  period 
Shall  be  unsaid  for  me;  against  the  threats 
Of  malice  or  of  sorcerie,  or  that  power 
Which  erring  men  call  Chance,  this  I  hold  firme, 
Vertue  may  be  assaiVd,  but  never  hurt, 
Surpriz'd  by  unjust  force,  but  not  enthrall'd. 
Yea  even  that  which  mischiefe  meant  most  harme, 
Shall  in  the  happie  triall  prove  most  glorie. 
But  evill  on  it  selfe  shall  backe  recoyle 
And  mixe  no  more  with  goodnesse,  when  at  last 
Gathered  like  scum,  and  setl'd  to  it  selfe 
It  shall  bee  in  eternall  restlesse  change 
Selfe  fed,  and  selfe  consimi'd,  if  this  faile 
The  pillar'd  firmanent  is  rottennesse, 
And  earths  base  built  on  stubble.    But  come  let's  on. 
Against  th'  opposing  will  and  arme  of  heav'n 
May  never  this  just  sword  be  lifted  up. 
But  for  that  damn'd  magician,  let  him  be  girt 
With  all  the  greisly  legions  that  troope 
Under  the  sootie  flag  of  Acheron, 
Harpyies  and  Hydra's,  or  all  the  monstrous  bugs 
'Twixt  Africa,  and  Inde,  He  find  him  out 
And  force  him  to  restore  his  purchase  backe 
Or  drag  him  by  the  curies,  and  cleave  his  scalpe 
Downe  to  the  hipps. 
SPIRIT.   Alas  good  ventrous  youth, 
I  love  thy  courage  yet,  and  bold  Emprise, 
But  here  thy  sword  can  doe  thee  little  stead, 

17 


COMUS      Farre  other  arms,  and  other  weapons  must 
A  Maske       Be  those  that  quell  the  might  of  hellish  charms, 
He  with  his  bare  wand  can  unthred  thy  joynts 
And  crumble  all  thy  sinewes. 
ELD.  BRO.   Why  prethee  shepheard 
How  durst  thou  then  thy  selfe  approach  so  ntore 
As  to  make  this  relation? 
SPIRIT.    Care  and  utmost  shifts 
How  to  secure  the  Ladie  from  surprisall 
Brought  to  my  mind  a  certaine  shepheard  lad 
Of  sn^all  regard  to  see  to,  yet  well  skill'd 
In  every  vertuous  plant,  and  healing  herbe 
That  spreds  her  verdant  leafe  to  th'  morning  ray, 
He  lov'd  me  well,  and  oft  would  beg  me  sing, 
Which  when  I  did,  he  on  the  tender  grasse 
Would  sit,  and  hearken  even  to  extasie. 
And  in  requital!  ope  his  leathern  scrip. 
And  shew  me  simples  of  a  thousand  names 
Telling  their  strange,  and  vigorous  faculties, 
Amongst  the  rest  a  small  unsightly  root. 
But  of  divine  effect,  he  cull'd  me  out; 
The  leafe  was  darkish,  and  had  prickles  on  it. 
But  in  another  Countrie,  as  he  said, 
Bore  a  bright  golden  flowre,  but  not  in  this  soyle: 
Unknowne,  and  like  esteem'd,  and  the  doll  swayne 
Treads  on  it  dayly  with  his  clouted  shoone, 
And  yet  more  med'cinall  is  it  then  that  Moly 
That  Hermes  once  to  wise  Ulysses  gave, 
He  caird  it  Hsemony,  and  gave  it  me 
And  bad  me  keepe  it  as  of  soveraine  use 
'Gainst  all  inchantments,  mildew  blast,  or  damp 
Or  gastly  furies  apparition; 
I  purs't  it  up,  but  little  reck'ning  made 
Till  now  that  this  extremity  compell'd. 
But  now  I  find  it  true,  for  by  this  means 
I  knew  the  foule  inchanter  though  disgois'd, 
Enter'd  the  very  lime  twigs  of  his  spells, 
And  yet  came  off,  if  you  have  this  about  you 
18 


(As  I  will  give  you  when  wee  goe)  you  may  COMUS 

Boldly  assault  the  necromancers  hall,  A  Maske 

Where  if  he  be,  with  dauntlesse  hardihood 

And  brandish't  blade  rush  on  him,  breake  his  glasse, 

And  shed  the  lushious  liquor  on  the  ground 

But  sease  his  wand,  though  he  and  his  curst  crew 

Feirce  signe  of  battaile  make,  and  menace  high, 

Or  like  the  sons  of  Vulcan  vomit  smoake, 

Yet  will  they  soone  retire,  if  he  but  shrinke. 

ELD.  BRO.    Thyrsis  lead  on  apace  He  follow  thcc, 

And  some  good  angell  beare  a  sheild  before  us. 

The  Scene  Changes  to  a  stately  palace  set  out  with  all 
manner  of  deliciousnesse,  soft  musicke,  tables  spred 
with  all  dainties.  Comus  appeares  with  his  rabble,  and 
the  Ladie  set  in  an  inchanted  chaire  to  whom  he  offers 
his  glasse,  which  she  puts  by,  and  goes  about  to  rise. 

COMUS.    Nay  Ladie  sit;  if  I  but  wave  this  wand, 

Your  nerves  are  all  chain'd  up  in  alabaster, 

And  you  a  statue;  or  as  Daphne  was 

Root  bound  that  fled  Apollo. 

LADIE.    Foole  doe  not  boast. 

Thou  canst  not  touch  the  freedome  of  my  mind 

With  all  thy  charms,  although  this  corporall  rind 

Thou  hast  immanacl'd,  while  heav'n  sees  good. 

COMUS.    Why  are  you  vext  Ladie,  why  doe  you  frowne? 

Here  dwell  no  frowns,  nor  anger,  from  these  gates 

Sorrow  flies  farre:  see  here  be  all  the  pleasurs 

That  fancie  can  beget  on  youthfull  thoughts 

When  the  fresh  blood  grows  lively,  and  returns 

Brisk  as  the  April  buds  in  primrose  season. 

And  first  behold  this  cordial  julep  here 

That  flames,  and  dances  in  his  crystall  bounds 

With  spirits  of  balme,  and  fragrant  syrops  mixt. 

Not  that  Nepenthes  which  the  wife  of  Thone 

In  JEgyjii  gave  to  Jove  borne  Helena 

Is  of  such  power  to  stirre  up  joy  as  this, 

To  life  so  friendly,  or  so  coole  to  thirst. 

19 


COMUS      Why  should  you  be  so  crucll  to  your  selfe, 
A  Maske       And  to  those  daintie  hmms  which  nature  lent 
For  gentle  usage,  and  soft  delicacic? 
But  you  invert  the  cov'nants  of  her  trust, 
And  harshly  deale  like  an  ill  borrower 
With  that  which  you  rcceiv'd  on  other  termes, 
Scorning  the  unexempt  condition, 
By  which  all  mortall  frailty  must  subsist. 
Refreshment  after  toilc,  ease  after  paine, 
That  have  been  tir  d  all  day  without  repast. 
And  timely  rest  have  wanted,  but  iaire  virgin 
This  will  restore  all  scone. 
LADIE.   T*  will  not  false  traitor, 
T'wiU  not  restore  the  truth  and  honestie 
That  thou  hast  banish't  from  thy  tongue  with  lies, 
Was  this  the  cottage,  and  the  safe  abode 
Thou  told  St  me  of?  what  grim  asp>ects  are  these, 
These  ougly-headed  monsters?    Mercie  guard  me! 
Hence  with  thy  brewd  inchantments  foule  deceiver 
Hast  thou  betray'd  my  credulous  innocence 
With  visor'd  falshood,  and  base  forgerie. 
And  wouldst  thou  seek  againe  to  trap  me  here 
With  lickerish  baits  fit  to  ensnare  a  brute? 
Were  it  a  draft  for  Juno  when  she  banquets 
I  would  not  tast  thy  treasonous  offer;  none 
But  such  as  are  good  men  can  give  good  things, 
And  that  which  is  not  good,  is  not  delidous 
To  a  wel-govem'd  and  wise  appetite. 
COMUS.    O  foolishnesse  of  men!  that  lend  their 
To  those  budge  doctors  of  the  Stoick  furre, 
And  fetch  their  praecepts  from  the  Cynick  tub, 
Praising  the  leane,  and  sallow  Abstinence. 
Wherefore  did  Nature  powre  her  bounties  forth 
With  such  a  full  and  unwithdrawing  hand. 
Covering  the  earth  with  odours,  fruits,  and  flocks 
Thronging  the  seas  with  spawne  innumerable 
But  all  to  please,  and  sate  the  curious  tast? 
And  set  to  work  milhons  of  spinning  worms, 
20 


That  in  their  green  shops  weave  the  smooth-hair 'd  silk  COMUS 

To  deck  her  Sons,  and  that  no  comer  might  A  Maske 

Be  vacant  of  her  plentie  in  her  owne  loyns 
She  hutch't  th'  all  worshipt  ore  and  precious  gems 
To  store  her  children  with ;  if  all  the  world 
Should  in  a  pet  of  temperance  feed  on  Pulse, 
Drink  the  clear  streame,  and  nothing  weare  but  Freize, 
Th'  all-giver  would  be  unthank't,  would  be  unprais'd, 
Not  halfe  his  riches  known,  and  yet  despis'd, 
And  we  should  serve  him  as  a  grudging  master, 
As  a  penurious  niggard  of  his  wealth, 
And  live  like  Natures  bastards,  not  her  sons, 
Who  would  be  quite  surcharg'd  with  her  own  weight, 
And  strangl'd  with  her  wast  fertilitie; 
Th'  earth  cumber'd,  and  the  wing'd  aire  dark't  with  plumes, 
The  heards  would  over-multitude  their  Lords, 
The  sea  ore-fraught  would  swell,  and  th'  unsought  diamonds 
Would  so  emblaze  the  forehead  of  the  Deep, 
And  so  bestudde  with  stars  that  they  below 
Would  grow  inur'd  to  light,  and  come  at  last 
To  gaze  upon  the  Sun  with  shameless  brows. 
List  Ladie  be  not  coy,  and  be  not  cosen'd 
With  that  same  vaunted  name  Virginitie, 
Beautie  is  natures  coine,  must  not  be  hoorded, 
But  must  be  currant,  and  the  good  thereof 
Consists  in  mutuall  and  parktaken  blisse, 
Unsavourie  in  th'  injoyment  of  it  selfe 
If  you  let  slip  time,  like  a  neglected  rose 
It  withers  on  the  stalke  with  languish't  head. 
Beautie  is  nature's  brag,  and  must  be  showne 
In  courts,  at  feasts,  and  high  solemnities 
Where  most  may  wonder  at  the  workmanship; 
It  is  for  homely  features  to  keepe  home. 
They  had  their  name  thence;  course  complexions 
And  cheeks  of  sorry  graine  will  serve  to  ply 
The  sampler,  and  to  teize  the  huswifes  wooU. 
What  need  a  vermeil-tinctur'd  lip  for  that 
Love-darting  eyes,  or  tresses  like  the  Mome 

21 


COMUS       There  was  another  meaning  in  these  gifts? 

A  Maske       Thinke  what,  and  be  adviz'd,  you  are  but  yong  yet 
LADIE.    I  had  not  thought  to  have  unlockt  my  lips 
In  this  unhallow'd  aire,  but  that  this  Jugler 
Would  thinke  to  charme  my  judgement,  as  mine  eyes 
Obtruding  false  rules  pranckt  in  reasons  garbe. 
I  hate  when  vice  can  bolt  her  arguments 
And  vertue  has  no  tongue  to  check  her  pride: 
Impostor  doe  not  charge  most  innocent  nature 
As  if  she  would  her  children  should  be  riotous 
With  her  abundance,  she  good  cateresse 
Means  her  provision  only  to  the  good 
That  live  according  to  her  sober  laws 
And  holy  dictate  of  spare  Temperance, 
If  every  just  man  that  now  pines  with  want 
Had  but  a  moderate,  and  beseeming  share 
Of  that  which  lewdy-pamper'd  Luxurie 
Now  heaps  upon  some  few  with  vast  excesse. 
Natures  full  blessings  would  be  well  dispenc't 
In  unsuperfluous  even  proportion, 
And  she  no  whit  encomber'd  with  her  store, 
And  then  the  giver  would  be  better  thank't. 
His  praise  due  paid,  for  swinish  gluttony 
Ne're  looks  to  heav  n  amidst  his  gorgeous  feast, 
But  with  besotted  base  ingratitude 
Cramms,  and  blasphemes  his  feeder.   Shall  I  goe  on? 
Or  have  1  said  enough?  to  him  that  dares 
Arme  his  profane  tongue  with  reproachfuU  words 
Against  the  Sun-clad  power  of  Chastitie 
Faine  would  I  something  say,  yet  to  what  end? 
Thou  hast  nor  Eare,  nor  Soule  to  apprehend 
The  sublime  notion  and  high  mysterie 
J  That  must  be  utter'd  to  unfold  the  sage 

And  serious  doctrine  of  Virginitie, 
And  thou  art  worthy  that  thou  shonldst  not  know 
More  happinesse  then  this  thy  praesent  lot 
Enjoy  your  deere  Wit,  and  gay  Rhetorick 
That  hath  so  well  beene  taught  her  dazling  fence, 
22 


Thou  art  not  fit  to  hearc  thy  sclfc  convinc't;  COMUS 

Yet  should  I  trie,  the  uncontrouled  worth  A  Maske 

Of  this  pure  cause  would  kindle  my  rapt  spirits 

To  such  a  flame  of  sacred  vehemence, 

That  dumb  things  would  be  mov'd  to  sympathize. 

And  the  brute  ^rth  would  lend  her  nerves,  and  shake, 

Till  all  thy  magick  structures  rear'd  so  high 

Were  shatter'd  into  heaps  ore  thy  false  head. 

COMUS.    She  fables  not,  I  feele  that  I  doe  feare 

Her  words  set  off  by  some  superior  power; 

And  though  not  mortall,  yet  a  cold  shuddring  dew 

Dips  me  all  ore,  as  when  the  wrath  of  Jove 

Speaks  thunder,  and  the  chaines  of  Erebus 

To  some  of  Saturns  crew.    I  must  dissemble, 

And  try  her  yet  more  strongly.    Come;  no  more, 

This  is  meere  morall  babble,  and  direct 

Against  the  canon  laws  of  our  foundation, 

I  must  not  suffer  this,  yet  'tis  but  the  lees 

And  setlings  of  a  melancholy  blood; 

But  this  will  cure  all  streight,  one  sip  of  this 

Will  bathe  the  drooping  spirits  in  delight 

Beyond  the  blisse  of  dreams.    Be  wise,  and  tast. — 

The  brothers  rush  in  with  swords  drawne,  wrest  his 
glasse  out  of  his  hand,  and  breake  it  against  the  ground ; 
his  rout  make  signe  of  resistance,  but  are  all  driven  in; 
the  attendant  Spirit  comes  in. 

SPIRIT.   What,  have  you  let  the  false  enchanter  scape? 
O  yee  mistooke,  yee  should  have  snatcht  his  wand 
And  bound  him  fast;  without  his  rod  revers't, 
And  backward  mutters  of  dissevering  power 
Wee  cannot  free  the  Ladie  that  sits  here 
In  stonie  fetters  fixt,  and  motionlesse; 
Yet  stay,  be  not  disturb'd,  now  I  bethinke  me. 
Some  other  meanes  I  have  which  may  be  us'd. 
Which  once  of  Melibasus  old  I  learnt 
The  soothest  shepheard  that  ere  pipe't  on  plains. 
jg^  There  is  a  gentle  nymph  not  farre  from  hence 

23 


COMUS       That  with  moist  curb  sways  the  smooth  Severn  stream, 

A  Maske       Sabrina  is  her  name,  a  virgin  pure, 

Whilome  shee  was  the  daughter  of  Locrine, 

That  had  the  scepter  from  his  father  Brute. 

She  guiltlesse  damsell  flying  the  mad  pursuit 

Of  her  enraged  stepdam  Guendolen 

Commended  her  faire  innocence  to  the  flood 

That  stay'd  her  flight  with  his  crosse-flowing  course, 

The  water  Nymphs  that  in  the  bottome  playd 

Held  up  their  pearled  wrists  and  tooke  her  in, 

Bearing  her  straite  to  aged  Nereus  hall 

Who  piteous  of  her  woes  reard  her  lanke  head. 

And  gave  her  to  his  daughters  to  imbathe 

In  nectar'd  lavers  strewd  with  asphodil, 

And  through  the  porch,  and  inlet  of  each  sense 

Dropt  in  ambroisal  oyles  till  she  reviv'd. 

And  underwent  a  quicke,  immortall  change 

Made  goddesse  of  the  river;  still  she  retaines 

Her  maiden  gentlenesse,  and  often  at  eve 

Visits  the  heards  along  the  twilight  meadows, 

Helping  all  urchin  blasts,  and  ill  lucke  signes 

That  the  shrewd  medling  elfe  delights  to  make, 

Which  she  with  precious  viold  liquors  heales. 

For  which  the  shepheards  at  their  festivalls 

Carroll  her  goodnesse  lowd  in  msticke  layes. 

And  throw  sweet  garland  wreaths  into  her  streame 

Of  pancies,  pinks,  and  gaudie  daffadills. 

And,  as  the  old  Swaine  said,  she  can  unlocke 

The  clasping  charme,  and  thaw  the  numming  spell, 

U  she  be  right  invok't  in  warbled  Song, 

For  maidenhood  she  loves,  and  will  be  swift 

To  aid  a  virgin  such  as  was  her  selfe 

In  hard  besetting  need,  this  will  I  trie 

And  adde  the  power  of  some  adjuring  verse. 

SONG. 

Sabrina  faire 

Listen  where  thou  art  sitting 
24 


Under  the  glassie,  coole,  translucent  wave,  COMUS 

In  twisted  braids  of  lillies  knitting  A  Maske 

The  loose  traine  of  thy  amber-dropping  haire, 
Listen  for  deare  honours  sake 
Goddesse  of  the  silver  lake 
Listen  and  save. 

Listen  and  appeare  to  us 
In  name  of  great  Oceanus, 
By  th'  earth  shaking  Neptun's  mace 
And  Tethys  grave  magesticke  pace, 
By  hoarie  Nereus  wrincled  looke. 
And  the  Carpathian  wisards  hooke. 
By  scalie  Tritons  winding  shell. 
And  old  sooth  saying  Glaucus  spell. 
By  Leucothea's  lovely  hands, 
And  her  son  that  rules  the  strands. 
By  Thetis  tinsel-slipper'd  feet; 
And  the  songs  of  Sirens  sweet, 
By  dead  Parthenope's  deare  tomb, 
And  faire  Ligea's  golden  comb, 
Wherewith  she  sits  on  diamond  rocks 
Sleeking  her  soft  alluring  locks, 
By  all  the  Nymphs  that  nightly  dance 
Upon  thy  streams  with  wilie  glance. 
Rise,  rise  and  heave  thy  rosie  head 
From  thy  coral-paven  bed. 
And  bridle  in  thy  headlong  wave 
Till  thou  our  summons  answerd  have. 
Listen  and  save. 

SABRINA  RISES  ATTENDED  BY  WATER 
NIMPHES  AND  SINGS. 

By  the  rushie  fringed  banke, 

Where  growes  the  willow  and  the  osier  dancke 

My  sliding  chariot  stayes, 
Thicke  set  with  agat,  and  the  azume  sheene 
Of  turkkis  blew,  and  Emrould  greene 

25 


COMUS  That  in  the  channcll  straycs, 

A  Maske       Whilst  from  off  the  waters  fleet 
Thus  I  set  my  printlesse  feet 
Ore  the  cowslips  velvet  head, 

That  bends  not  as  I  tread. 
Gentle  swaine  at  thy  request 
I  am  here. 

SPIRIT.   Goddcsse  deare 

Wee  implore  thy  powerfuU  hand 

To  undoe  the  charmed  band 

Of  true  virgin  here  distrest, 

Through  the  force,  and  through  the  wile 

Of  unblcst  inchanter  vile. 

SABRINA.    Shepheard  tis  my  office  best 

To  helpe  insnared  chastitie; 

Brightest  Ladie  looke  on  me, 

Thus  I  sprinckle  on  thy  brest 

Drops  that  from  my  fountaine  pure 

I  have  kept  of  precious  cure, 

Thrice  upon  thy  fingers  tip, 

Thrice  upon  thy  rubied  lip. 

Next  this  marble  venom 'd  seate 

Smear'd  with  gummcs  of  glutenous  heate 

I  touch  with  chast  palmes  moist  and  cold, 

Now  the  spell  hath  lost  his  hold. 

And  I  must  hast  ere  morning  houre 

To  waite  in  Amphitrite's  bowre. 

SABRINA  DESCENDS  AND  THE  LADIE  RISES 
OUT  OF  HER  SEATE. 

SPIRIT.    Virgin,  daughter  of  Locrine 
Sprung  of  old  Anchises  line 
May  thy  brimmed  waves  for  this 
Their  full  tribute  never  misse 
From  a  thousand  pettie  rills. 
That  tumble  downe  the  snowie  hills: 
Summer  drouth,  or  singed  aire 
26 


Never  scorch  thy  tresses  faire,  COMUS 

Nor  wet  Octobers  torrent  flood  A  Maske 

Thy  molten  crystall  fill  with  mudde, 

May  thy  billowes  rowlc  a  shoare 

The  beryll,  and  the  golden  ore, 

May  thy  loftie  head  be  crown'd 

With  many  a  tower,  and  terrasse  round, 

And  here  and  there  thy  banks  upon 

With  groves  of  myrrhe,  and  cinnamon. 

^^  Come  Ladle  while  heaven  lends  us  grace, 

Let  us  fly  this  cursed  place, 

Lest  the  sorcerer  us  intice 

With  some  other  new  device. 

Not  a  wast,  or  needlesse  sound 

Till  we  come  to  holyer  ground, 

I  shall  be  your  faithfull  guide 

Through  this  gloomie  covert  wide, 

And  not  many  furlongs  thence 

Is  your  Fathers  residence, 

Where  this  night  are  met  in  state 

Many  a  friend  to  gratulate 

His  wish't  presence,  and  beside 

All  the  Swains  that  there  abide. 

With  Jiggs,  and  rurall  dance  resort. 

Wee  shall  catch  them  at  their  sport. 

And  our  suddaine  comming  there 

Will  double  all  their  mirth,  and  chere. 

Come  let  us  hast  the  starrs  are  high 

But  night  sits  monarch  yet  in  the  mid  skie. 

The  Scene  changes  presenting  Ludlow  towne  and  the 
Presidents  Castle,  then  come  in  Countrie  dancers,  after 
them  the  attendant  Spirit  with  the  two  Brothers  and 
the  Ladie. 

SONG. 

SPIRIT.  Back  shepheards,  back  enough  your  play. 
Till  next  Sun-shine  holiday, 

27 


COMUS       Here  be  without  duck  or  nod, 
A  Maske       Other  trippings  to  be  trod 

Of  lighter  toes,  and  such  Court  guise 

As  Mercury  did  first  deviae 

With  the  mincing  Dryades 

On  the  lawns,  and  on  the  leas. 

THIS  SECOND  SONG  PRJBSENTS  THEM  TO 
THEIR  FATHER  AND  MOTHER. 

Noble  Lord,  and  Lady  bright, 
I  have  brought  yee  new  delight. 
Here  behold  so  goodly  growne, 
Three  faire  branches  of  your  owne, 
Heavn  hath  timely  tri'd  their  youth, 
Their  faith,  their  patience,  and  their  truth, 
And  sent  them  here  through  hard  assays 
With  a  crowne  of  deathlesse  Praise, 
To  triumph  in  victorious  dance 
Ore  sensuall  Folly,  and  Intemperance. 

THE  DANCES  ENDED,  THE  SPIRIT 
EPILOGIZES. 

SPIRIT.  To  the  Ocean  now  I  flie, 
And  those  happie  climes  that  lie 
Where  day  never  shuts  his  eye. 
Up  in  the  broad  fields  of  the  skie: 
There  I  suck  the  liquid  ayre 
All  amidst  the  gardens  faire 
Of  Hesperus,  and  his  daughters  three 
That  sing  about  the  golden  tree. 
Along  the  crisped  shades,  and  bowres 
Rcvclls  the  spruce  and  jocond  Spring, 
The  Graces,  and  the  rosie-bosom'd  Howres 
Thither  all  their  bounties  bring, 
That  there  aetcrnall  Summer  dwells 
And  west  winds,  with  muskie  wing 
About  the  cedar  n  alleys  fling 
Nard,  and  Cassia  s  balmie  smells. 
28 


Iris  there  with  humid  bow  COMUS 

Waters  the  odorous  banks  that  blow  A  Maske 

Flowers  of  more  mingled  hew 

Then  her  purfl'd  scarfe  can  shew, 

And  drenches  with  Elysian  dew 

(List  mortalls,  if  your  eares  be  true) 

Beds  of  Hyacinth,  and  roses, 

Where  young  Adonis  oft  reposes, 

Waxing  well  of  his  deepe  wound 

In  slumber  soft,  and  on  the  ground 

Sadly  sits  th'  Assyrian  Queene; 

But  farre  above  in  spangled  sheene 

Celestiall  Cupid  her  fam'd  Son  advanc't, 

Holds  his  deare  Psyche  sweet  intranc't 

After  her  wandring  labours  long. 

Till  free  consent  the  gods  among 

Make  her  his  aetemall  Bride, 

And  from  her  faire  unspotted  side 

Two  blissfuU  twins  are  to  be  borne, 

Youth,  and  Joy;  so  Jove  hath  swome. 

jg^  But  now  my  taske  is  smoothly  done, 

I  can  fly,  or  I  can  run 

Quickly  to  the  greene  earths  end. 

Where  the  bow'd  welkin  slow  doth  bend, 

And  from  thence  can  soare  as  soone 

To  the  corners  of  the  Moone. 

0J^  Mortalls  that  would  follow  me, 

I^ve  vertue,  she  alone  is  free. 

She  can  teach  yee  how  to  clime 

Higher  then  the  Sphserie  chime; 

Or  if  vertue  feeble  were 

Heav'n  it  self e  would  stoope  to  her. 


29 


THEPRINCIPALLPERSONSINTHISMASKE;WERE 

THE  LORD  BRACLY,  MR.  THOMAS  EGERTON. 
THE  LADY  ALICE  EGERTON. 

THE  END. 


HERE  ENDS  COMUS.  A  MASKE,  BY  JOHN  MILTON. 

ONE  HUNDRED  AND  SIXTY  COPIES  HAVE  BEEN 
PRINTED  FROM  THE  ORIGINAL  EDITION  OF  1637, 
WITH  TITLE  PAGES  DESIGNED  BY  H.  M.  OKANE. 
PRINTEDANDSOLDBYCLARKECONWELLATTHE 
ELSTON  PRESS,  PELHAM  ROAD,  NEW  ROCHELLE, 
NEW  YORK.  FINISHEDTHISTWENTIETHDAYOF 

MARCH.  MDCCCCII. 


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